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| St. Paul's in June 2025 |
The original church, consecrated by Bishop W. C. Bompas on Easter Sunday 1880, was built by HBCo blacksmith William Alexander Wylie (1842-1909) with help from other HBCo servants, local freemen, and chief factor Roderick MacFarlane, presumably with funds from the Church Mission Society in England. The building was expanded and upgraded in 1920, and extensive repairs were made in the 1990’s. The parish hall was built as a schoolhouse and Catechist’s residence in 1874 by Alfred Campbell Garrioch, with help from the HBCo for materials and labour. The cemetery was used until 1925.
Not long after arriving in Fort Chipewyan in 1958 we started regularly attending Sunday services at the Anglican Church. The church was 120 meters west of our house, in the row of buildings facing the lake. We walked past Indian Agent Jack Stewart’s two-story yellow house, the big old “doctor’s” house that was no longer being used, the tiny parish hall, the cemetery, and finally the church. My first memories were that it was dim and cold inside, with dark stained pews and woodwork, and a wood stove that was too small to adequately warm up the large space. But it was Anglican, which was comforting after so many years of attending the Catholic Church in Fort Providence. With the knowledge that I wasn’t Catholic I had doubts about their teachings. Tania and I started going to Sunday school that fall. I can’t remember much of the classes, or who taught them.
sunday school photo
Mom, my sister and I went to church every Sunday, along with Miss Stewart from next door. I can't remember Mike ever joining us - it was a free time for him, he got the house to himself, and could crank up the stereo as loud as he wanted . Which he did! The reels of tape, carefully cataloged and labeled, are in a box in my garage now. I haven't quite been able to dispose of them. A lot of Broadway musicals, light classical, the Inkspots, etc. In the summer his Sunday mornings were tinkering with the boat or fishing at the point.
The Sunday service was held by Reverend Ronald Parsons, a stern rather pompous man whose sermons were completely incomprehensible to me. He ascended the pulpit on five curved steps to deliver his announcements and sermons high over the congregation, making me feel small, watched and vulnerable. Hymns were sung with great enthusiasm, led by Mrs. Mabel Fraser. I was astonished the first time I heard Mrs. Fraser – she sang LOUD, but hit the notes with absolute confidence. It got everyone joining in, which was a lot more fun than the limited opportunity for participation in the Catholic services, where we mumbled Latin responses to the priest’s chanting. A woman, I can’t remember who, it changed from time to time, played the organ to accompany the congregation, feet pumping rhythmically on the pedals, stops all pulled out to keep the chords full. Above the organ the stained glass windows let in the late morning sunlight that crept across the nave until the final benediction, when we were finally free.
Services were completely in English, which was new to me. My previous church experiences had been in Latin, at times with a bit of Slavey, Dogrib or French. Although I had become adept at using the prayer book to follow the English translations for the Latin prayers and responses, it was comforting to participate more directly. I missed, however, the robes, ceremony, processions, bells, and particularly the incense, which along with the mystery of Latin chanting inspired a supernatural presence. I no longer had any use for my rosary beads either.
The Eucharist was a new experience too, particularly seeing participants drinking Christ’s blood. In Fort Providence and Fort Rae only the priest drank the wine – the congregation were limited to sharing his body through the wafer. I noticed other differences in the sacraments: whereas the Catholics observed them very literally, with the priest holding the authority to enact the sacrament, we now seemed to treat the sacrament as symbolic of our commitment…the magic was missing. Nevertheless, I eventually participated in Communion after confirming my faith in a ceremony presided by Right Reverend Reginald Pierce, Bishop of the Diocese of Athabasca. He called himself Reginald Athabasca.
The Parsons’ son Warren was a great play companion during our first year in Chip. We quickly became buddies, although we preferred to play at our house. His father wanted us to be way too quiet in their house, and if we got carried away Warren would be punished with some awful task, like weeding the front yard. The rectory was a fairly new bungalow, with a lawn that was pretty much all weeds with a few tufts of grass.
Our next minister was Reverend Malcolm Herman. Mr. Herman came in 1960 with his wife Charlotte. They met each other when working at the All Saints Indian Residential School in Prince Albert. Mr. Herman had a fine sense of humor that complemented his Cape Breton accent. And he was strong, carrying his outboard motor to the lake with one hand and a full tank of gas in the other. He single-handedly stained the cedar shakes on the church roof, no small accomplishment. Even more amazing, he painted the wooden slats on the steeple belfry. A couple of men from DOT hoisted him up with a rope on a pulley attached to the steeple! Our family became quite close to the Herman’s, sharing meals on holy days, helping with church projects and making trips out on the lake for picnics. We continue to enjoy this friendship. The Hermans left Fort Chipewyan in 1966.
Mrs. Herman grew up in Fort Vermillion, and is related to Wylie families in Fort Chipewyan. Her great grandfather William Alexander Wylie is credited with responsibility of leading the construction of the original St Paul’s church structure in the late 1870’s. William’s son Edward built the extension to the church in 1920 with his brother Peter, Mrs. Herman’s grandfather.
Herman family photo
Last year while sharing stories about Fort Chipewyan families with Mrs. Herman she mentioned that she has a complete record of baptisms and weddings for the St. Paul parish. Several years ago she and Mr. Herman spent many days at the Provincial Archives in Edmonton copying entries into notebooks. I borrowed these from her and have since spent many happy hours poring through them. The baptisms are from 1874 until 1952, and marriages from 1881 until 1949.
The next minister at St. Paul’s was Reverend Wilfred Wagner. He and his wife Sandra moved into the rectory in 1966. There has been no ordained minister at St. Paul’s following Reverend Wagner. Marjorie Glanfield, long-time leader of the Women’s Auxiliary, was canonized and lead services until her death in 2023.
I was confirmed in St. Paul's Anglican Church in Fort Chipewyan on January 16, 1961, along with Dot (Dorothy) Loutit and Hilda Fraser . Mom was baptized by Bishop Pierce on the same day.
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| Dot, me and Hilda Dot and Hilda are great granddaughters of Peter Loutit |
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 Bishop Pierce authenticates this document with the Diocese name, Athabasca, instead of his own surname. Mr. Herman gave me first communion, a big deal for me. |
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| Sunday school at St. Paul's Anglican Church, ca 1959 Consecrated in 1880, this is the longest-serving Anglican church in Alberta. |
There is a cemetery between the church and the parish hall. Mike hid in among the tombstones one evening when some congregation members were gathering, and scared one of our neighbours so badly that she wet herself. There was a wonderful empty space behind the cemetery that had large trees and rough land perfect for playing battle games (WW2, cowboys, Robin Hood, etc.), building forts, and climbing. This natural playground was one of the reasons I never learned to play piano - I couldn't justify the time away from my friends to make the commitment.
My first experience of really believing the Christian story was while I was taking confirmation classes, in the fall of 1960. The classes themselves were incredibly boring two-hour stretches after school in the rectory with Mr. Herman doing his best to keep the obligatory material interesting. Mrs. Herman served tea. The class was Hilda Fraser, Dot Loutit and myself. We did our best to stay focused and respectful, and not giggle when one of us nodded off. My epiphany came one afternoon in the forest behind the church. Standing under the poplar trees, with autumn leaves fluttering down around me, the idea that Jesus was truly the Son of God, and that through his love I could speak directly to Him suddenly made sense. That He provided a way for my sins to be forgiven was a bonus (and less daunting than negotiating purgatory time for venial sins as I’d been taught in catechism classes in Fort Providence). This new commitment to belief lasted through the next two years, and remained strong until doubt was planted on a spring day in 1963. Bishop Pierce was visiting, and after his service greeted us on the steps of the church. He knew I was to start in Concordia College in Edmonton in the fall, and cautioned that “The Lutherans are good people, but don’t forget that you’re Anglican”. This competition for my soul seemed tawdry and small, and not what Jesus taught. Attending high school religion classes at Concordia removed any remaining doubts that churches really have subverted His message. I still believe Jesus was an upstanding fellow though.
church photo 1963
The forest in the Anglican property was a favourite place to play when we were youngsters, before we were old enough to venture out on lake and into the bush. I experienced my Christian epiphany in the trees behind the church. Photo in early winter, 1963.
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